


Behind the Mask

by cindyfxx, withinmelove



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Hurt Steve Rogers, Kidnapping, M/M, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 20:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14755572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cindyfxx/pseuds/cindyfxx, https://archiveofourown.org/users/withinmelove/pseuds/withinmelove
Summary: The Asset kidnaps Steve Rogers whereupon they live in an abandoned house for months. As the Asset starts to become more human Steve starts suffering from depression. This co-dependency isn't healthy but what will be the last straw to push Steve to finally escape?





	Behind the Mask

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Steve Rogers](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/383673) by Cindyfxx. 



> To date this fic is the longest one I've written! Also Elio and Oliver are from the movie "Call Me By Your Name" 
> 
> The artwork this fic was based off: http://cindyfxx.tumblr.com/post/174256862997/the-fic-behind-the-mask-inspired-by-this-one

The Asset is still coming to its senses after the most recent visit to the Chair. The bleak, sterile equipment and cavernous room informs it that it is within the HYDRA home base once more. Nausea is churning in its stomach and the mouthguard does nothing for its aching jaw or to lessen the sensation of imminent puking. Each visit is becoming more difficult (the handlers whisper that it has become slower to respond each time).

“Soldier, are you ready to comply?” The voice is an unknown handler. She stares at the Asset with an expression close to revolted shock. A swallow before it nods (bad choice). 

“Ready to comply,” it croaks. She nods before moving close to hand it the thick dossiers she holds. It takes them opening the first folder blinking trying to bring into focus the colorful photos in its lap. There are so many. Bodyshots and close-ups alike of a blond man. What is clear is that he isn’t an ordinary citizen--obvious with that muscular body suited up in the tactical gear of SHIELD. Something akin to need slithers through the Asset’s body as it analyzes the multitude of photographs. 

“Your Mission is to kill Captain America.” she states. The order is set. This statuesque man will die by the Asset’s hand. 

But when it’s within its grasp to choke Captain America to death and complete the objective what stops the Asset dead is the beauty of its Mission--called Steve Rogers. The glossy pictures in the thick dossiers it was given did not do the Mission justice. Hunger wells up inside of it when it comes face to face with Steve Rogers. 

_Mine_ hisses through its mind, tearing the kill command to pieces, just as if it never existed at all. It fights harder, punishing, for it must not give away what has happened. Pierce will order the doctors to wipe its mind if there is any sign it has resisted in the slightest. But the Asset cannot forcibly steal away with the Mission at this moment to keep him safe from HYDRA and SHIELD, to keep itself from following the orders it will be given again and again to destroy this beauty. All for itself. Selfish greed.

But now is not the time. Handlers and lesser agents await on the overpass with too much firepower for it or the Mission to avoid. The Redhead and Flying Man would dog their steps even if they both managed to escape unscathed. So the Asset must lose this fight to find Steve Rogers later and hide him away from the world that will kill them both. 

\--

Three weeks later it has snatched freedom. Failing to kill the Mission on the Triskelion is the price to be paid.

On the balls of its feet, the Asset creeps into Steve Rogers’ apartment, after picking the lock. He pauses to listen, head tilted a bit, but there is no noise of disturbance. Good, he is still unaware. This will be much easier without a fight. After the first time he saw the Mission, he knew he was _his_. 

It is silent as it makes its way through the dark apartment. Although the Asset is unfamiliar with the layout, it manages not to bump into anything. It opens the bedroom door to find Steve Rogers heavily asleep. Noiselessly, it crosses the room to loom over Steve’s sprawled body. The blankets are kicked down to his thighs and he’s dressed only in boxers. The Asset’s gaze roams over Steve’s muscular body, the broad shoulders with a waist that sweeps down into narrow hips. Pretty tits that he wants handfuls of. 

A swallow as Rogers shifts in bed, turning onto his side to face it (still sound asleep). The Asset removes the sealed needle from its pouch, flicking off the clear cap, before sinking the needle into the meaty part of the Mission’s thigh. Steve Rogers shouts in surprised anger as he blindly lashes out, not even conscious yet. The Asset plucks the shield up as the Mission reaches for it, swiftly backing away on the defense. 

“Th’ hell?!” Steve Rogers slurs, yanking out the needle as he jumps to his feet...or tries to. Rather, he ends up on his hands and knees, looking up at the Asset in frightened confusion. 

“B-Bucky? W-wha’re you doing?” The words trip over Steve Rogers’ tongue as he sways. Perfect, the tranquilizer seems to have the expected effect on the Mission’s body despite his enhanced metabolism--“expected” seeing as it’s the same kind given to the Asset when it must be forced back into cryo. It is not its fault for fighting. The Asset hates the bitter cold and the long spans of dark blankness. Steve closes his eyes jaw clenched. He’s fighting the drug.

“Bucky - _please_.” Steve begs crawling towards it though he’s having difficulty with even that. The Asset tightens its grip around the straps of the shield. It will not trust him. Not until they are safe from HYDRA, from everyone. 

No better opening than this. The Asset dare not wait too long. The tranquilizer is meant for short periods of time. It has no knowledge of how long it will last with Steve Rogers’ serum, which the files suggest is different from its own. The shield it puts down on the floor before kicking it away from them both. It bumps lightly against the opposite wall. Swiftly, the Asset removes the backpack from its shoulders and pulls from it a pairs of specialized handcuffs made just for super soldier strength. Steve is unresisting as he’s securely cuffed. 

A moment’s pause to consider whether it’s necessary for a gag or not but the Asset decides it isn’t. During this whole encounter, Steve’s not once shouted out for help, even though now, within his apartment, close to other people, would be the perfect time. It grasps Steve’s jaw, turning his face up towards its own. Angry blue eyes stare back. Good, he’s still aware enough to be upset by this kidnapping. Assured Steve Rogers won’t die from overdose, the Asset moves off to begin packing clothes into a duffel bag it finds in the closet. 

The Asset fills it to bursting before moving back towards Steve. The shield’s holster catches its eye as it crouches down to lift the captive to his feet. It’s on the floor beside Steve’s bed--easy enough to stretch out in his crouch and grab the holster. The leather is worn buttery soft between its fingers, a fact the Asset registers distantly before slipping its arms through. 

Steve Rogers watches with confused eyes as the Asset grabs the shield, clicking it into place on his back. The harness puts a comforting weight on its chest and shoulders. No time to waste. The Asset grabs a pair of soft sleep pants, relieved that Steve Rogers cooperates about being dressed. It would draw too much attention to take a near-naked man out of his home. There’s no point trying to put a shirt on him, so instead it puts a jacket over his shoulders, snapping together the top button. 

It’s telling that Steve Rogers doesn’t need to lean on it too much as they leave. No doubt in the few minutes it took to pack clothes the tranquilizer was cleansed from his system. Still, he is obedient and doesn’t fight as he’s led to the van the Asset stole (ripping the plates off beforehand). Under the cover of darkness, the missing plates shouldn’t be noticed by law enforcement. 

Hours pass as they drive. The Asset is vigilant for anyone who might be following them. Once out of the city, it keeps to the lonely and darkest of roads. Steve Rogers drifts in and out of sleep, having reclined the passenger seat all the way back. It’s when the pink of dawn begins to touch the sky that he starts to talk. 

“Bucky, why did you kidnap me? You know I would follow you anywhere, right? And what’s with the no talking?” 

The Mission speaks entirely too much. He should be frightened but he is not. Perhaps kidnapping him was a bad idea. The Asset didn’t realize how inquisitive he would be. It focuses on the road, silent.

“Is this some kind of silent treatment? What _happened_ to you?” 

This last part bothers the Asset. Nothing happened to it. Just because it doesn’t chatter a mile a minute or ask too many questions doesn’t mean there is something wrong. Rather, it is the mark of a good soldier who doesn’t talk freely. He sniffs disdainfully in response to Steve’s comment instead of answering. 

“Did-did you just _sniff_ at my question?” Steve asks blinking clearly taken aback by the contemptuous response. The Asset glances at the Mission out the corner of its eye before looking back the road. If he’s too dense to figure out what disdain sounds like, he’s quite hopeless. 

Thankfully after that he falls quiet.

\--

It’s nearly noon of the first day of their escape when Steve speaks up again. 

“Bucky.” His voice cracks. He swallows before trying again. “I need to eat, drink, and use the bathroom.” 

The Asset works its jaw. They haven’t made any real progress not even close to what it wanted to before stopping for fuel. However, it’s within their best interest to be better prepped. The sudden abduction of the Mission meant that neither one of them is fully prepared. Steve is watching closely, and finally it nods. 

“Thank you, Bucky.” Steve sighs relaxing back into his seat assured that he’ll be getting a break. The Asset grunts in acknowledgement. The name is fine, it supposes. 

Not until they stop at a gas station, three hours later, does the Asset truly feel uneasy. For a few seconds, all it can do is clench the steering wheel, staring off into the woods, heart pounding as sweat prickles all over. This is not a good idea. HYDRA will destroy them both if they are caught. This thought--above all, of his Mission being killed--stops the air in his lungs. 

“Buck? Bucky, are you okay?” Steve’s stern voice brings it back. The Asset looks over, struggling to get its breathing back to normal, to meet Steve’s wide concerned eyes. A nod before it reaches over to unlock the handcuffs. Much as it would give the Asset peace of mind, it’s too suspicious to have him cuffed in public. The trip is quick. Bathroom breaks for them both before they stock up on terrible foodstuffs filled with empty carbs, fats, and sugar. It’s only by luck the Asset happened to pick the coat with Steve’s wallet in the pocket. He withdraws as much money as the gas station ATM will allow before paying for all their food and water. Not until they are back in the car and driving does the Asset relax a bit. 

At once Steve Rogers peels open a saran-wrapped sandwich, eating half of it in one bite. Good to see the tranquilizer didn’t ruin his appetite at all. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?” he asks, frowning at the food and water that remain untouched, still sealed, once he has finished off his own portion. The Asset nods but does not reach for the nutrients. 

“Buck, you need to eat. Unless you ate right before you kidnapped me, you’ve got to be running low.” Steve’s voice brooks no argument on the matter, even if the Asset were so inclined as to argue about whether it needs food now or not. Instead, the Asset rolls its eyes and holds a hand out for one of the terrible snacks. There is a rip of paper before Steve hands over a sugared fruit pie, apple flavor. Nowhere near healthy, but it will have to do for now. It carefully eats away at the fruit pie as all the filling has congealed at the bottom of the pastry shell. But apparently, he is not done being fed as Steve opens the small plastic container of carrots, celery, and naan bread with hummus next.

“Here, open,” Steve orders, a hummus-coated carrot hovering by the Asset’s mouth. This is ridiculous, but feeding it seems to keep the Mission contented, the Asset obeys, allowing Steve to feed it everything in the container, followed by a bottle of water. Admittedly, it does feel much better after having the vegetables and even the fake fruit pie. 

“I’d give you more but we gotta save some of the snacks for tonight. We’ll run out by tomorrow morning anyway. We can make a run into town.” 

The Asset does not like the casual way Steve says that. As if it is a breeze to go anywhere they want. Besides, he is a hostage. Hostages are not supposed to think they’re allowed to do anything or get everything they want. But then again, Steve Rogers is a different kind of Mission in the first place. 

Four days later there is no doubt they have crossed state lines. Likely into Oregon if all the trees are anything to go by. The house the Asset finds for them out in the country is abandoned. It is obvious it has only recently been vacated. The shrubbery along the sides of the house is only starting to climb the walls. Inside, dust and cobwebs layer everything. For the first time, it feels safe; its skin no longer rubbed raw. It is a comfort to settle into the life of someone else. 

Steve Rogers does not share that same sense of safety. He moves around the house barely touching anything, doing his best not to disturb the dust. However, the Asset does not care. A search of the premises (the shield magnetized to its harness, which the Asset wears) and inside the house turns up no one. Two bedrooms, a basement, an attic, and a small kitchen. Perfect size for guarding. 

After inspection it settles in the kitchen, turning on the faucet to find the water is still running. Wetting a hand towel, it begins to wipe down the counters and kitchen table. No sense in pretending the previous occupants are coming back. 

\--

Steve doesn’t know how to handle this silent, brooding version of his friend. This isn’t _his_ Bucky. No, this man radiates a prickly aura unlike what his friend ever did. Or the fact it seems his shield is no longer his. Not with the way Bucky is so possessive of wearing it at all times. The first day they spend in the abandoned house, Bucky (for no other name seems right for this stranger) is fully absorbed in scouring the house of dust. Steve helps for lack of anything else to do.

Late that evening the house is relatively clean more than when they arrived. The water still works, although the heat doesn’t. Steve grabs his duffel back from the stolen van which Bucky had driven a little ways into the wooded area surrounding their safe house. Enough that they can get out fast if need be but screened from any prying eyes from the road all the way at the end of the long gravel driveway. Whoever lived here before them clearly valued privacy above all else. 

Steve occupied himself browsing the bookshelves. There were bookcases in every room, even the kitchen. The previous homeowner clearly loved the printed word. The first bedroom (located next to the second one) has a bookshelf crammed with general fiction, historical fiction, and horror novels. The second bedroom bookshelf holds nothing but backwards books filled with comics. On the inside of the back cover he’s informed what he’s trying to read is _manga_. Huh. He’ll have to come back to it. The bathroom has two medium wicker baskets on the floor filled with slim, glossy magazines. National Geographic, Psychology Today, Smithsonian, and Discover are just a few of the selections. 

Steve gets the sense that he and Bucky could live here for the next few years and he’d not have enough time to read every book in the house. Bucky’s still in the kitchen now going through the cupboards and fridge, a tall garbage can at his side. Bucky glances at him before going back to clearing out the rotten food or expired bottles and cans. Steve leaves him to it tugging one at a time at the cookbooks lined up every so tightly in the windowsill. The yellowing edges tell that these have been here for some time. 

He wonders what life would be like without the identity of Captain America, if indeed he allowed himself to fade into obscurity. The thought makes it difficult to breathe; he has to focus on the books in front of him to calm down. _No_ , he needs to get back. There’s no negotiation on that. It’s just a matter of time and helping Bucky reintegrate into society. They will return home even if it’s unclear what _home_ is right now. Steve moves off to explore the rest of the house.

Once they finish off the last of their gas station snacks that evening, Steve settles into bed with a manga. Bucky’s still cleaning, now in the second bedroom, having already finished the living room earlier. At some point he dozes off without meaning to, for when he wakes up, what must be hours later, the sun has gone away and Bucky is asleep in the recliner in the corner. He’s curled into himself knees drawn up and arms crossed over his chest. The comforter from the second bed is wrapped around him. At least now he looks like the friend Steve used to know.

He swallows hard against the tightness in his throat, tearing up. There’s clearly reasons for Bucky’s bizarre behavior and why he decided to kidnap Steve that are yet to be explained. Horrors that his friend must have endured to be twisted into this silent man who steals friends from their beds and drives across state lines with them in complete secrecy. He can’t bring himself to imagine what has Bucky so terrified for this extreme level of paranoia and suspicion, even towards Steve.

He’d let himself be kidnapped all over again if it meant having Bucky back. 

Steve gazes at him until he drifts back to sleep. 

It’s not until the early afternoon that Steve wakes up again. He looks over to find Bucky’s awake and reading. Clearly he’s already showered for the day, although he’s still wearing the same--his only--outfit. Steve stretches before sitting up running his tongue over his fuzzy feeling teeth. Along with food, they need toothbrushes, toothpaste, body wash, clothes for Bucky, and toilet paper before their current supply runs out. 

After using the bathroom, showering, and getting dressed in different clothes he’s ready to go. During all this, Buck’s stayed in the recliner. He must know they need to go into town, but he’s not budged from his spot. Steve sighs. He’s not in the mood to negotiate everything. Digging out a hoodie from his duffel bag he throws it at Bucky’s head. The other man snatches the hoodie before it can land. 

“C’mon, even you can’t survive on nothing. Let’s get this done with. We’ll be back soon enough.” he explains with a shrug. Unless Bucky wants SHIELD on their trail.... He gets a dissatisfied grimace in return, but Buck does stand up. He pulls on the hoodie (it’s a little big--and that’s a weird image, that his clothes are now large on Bucky versus the way it used to be) and heads towards the back door where the van is parked amongst the trees. 

\--

The Asset has driven no more than five minutes away from the house when Steve starts talking a mile a minute again. Going out seems to have an talkative effect on him. 

“You never did explain how you got away from HYDRA or why you came to me. From our earlier fight on the bridge and then later...after the we fell...I thought you would’ve only been coming back to kill me. But I didn’t think you’d kidnap me in my own apartment. And why won’t you talk to me? Is something wrong?” Steve’s face goes pale as he turns wide horrified eyes on it. “They - they didn’t physically take away your voice did they?” 

The Asset shakes its head and Steve sags back into his seat relief evident. The thought that he was truly that frightened and concerned is startling. It is still not sure what relationship it seems to have previously had with Captain America. One that is enough for Steve to willingly remain its hostage. It clears its throat and does not miss Steve’s riveted gaze. 

“What were we? Before?” This seems to take him aback completely and well the Asset thought this was what Steve wanted was for it to speak. 

“You...don’t remember me, do you?” Steve asks, those blue eyes studying it. Reassessing his previous idea of who Winter Soldier is and where hides Bucky Barnes the long dead friend. 

“Well - before all _this_.” He makes a sweeping gesture between them. It does not remember a time before HYDRA or the metal arm. “I used to be a tiny sick kid. Awful health. Anything a body could get, I had. You were a charmer and everyone loved your smile. It meant everything to me when you’d smile. Your mom said you got your handsome looks from her.” Here Steve’s voice wobbles. It glances over to see that he is pointedly staring out the windshield. 

“Yeah, you had family. Your mom’s name was Winnifred, your dad was George, and your sister was Rebecca. Granted, you stayed over at my family’s apartment with me a lot, so my mom counted you as one of her own too.” Bucky wonders if perhaps Steve had any other siblings. It does not feel grief for what it doesn’t remember, but regret for how much pain these memories cause Steve. 

For the next three hours as the Asset drives, Steve retells the entirety of how they came to be on opposite sides. How his transformation into the Winter Soldier started when he fell from a freight train. He, Bucky, used to lead the Howling Commandos and that he, Steve, was busy fulfilling his duty of giving heroic morale to the soldiers as Captain America. But it is not interested in the past military career; it wants to hear more childhood stories of them. 

By the time the Asset decides they have driven long and far enough to stop in a city Steve’s voice has gone hoarse. The Asset misses the sound as unease squeezes its stomach. There are far too many people and he thinks how stupid it is to let Steve talk it into going grocery shopping. But they are here and the thought of proper nutrients is too enticing. 

They go to a random bank and pull into one of three ATM lanes. It rolls down the window and turns to demand the card but Steve’s already unbuckling and leaning across him. Heat rushes over its body at the press of Steve’s shoulder against its chest maintaining his stretched out position while the ATM reads his card by resting his hand on its thigh. The Asset barely dares to breathe at this sudden proximity.

By the time Steve’s withdrawn a stack of bills and buckled back up the Asset’s heart rate has picked up. Steve’s smiling (a first) as he waves the money, before the expression droops a bit from whatever look the Asset is wearing.

“Got $400 dollars! And--you okay? You’re a little pink in the face.” It nods, not willing to speak. Afraid its voice might crack, giving away the effect Steve’s casual touch has had. In silence they drive to the closest superstore. By the time they are parked the Asset’s clenching its teeth wishing it could have the mask which is back in Steve’s duffel bag. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Bucky. We’ll get this done fast and I’ll be there if anything happens.” 

Out of the car they grab a cart from one of the many cart corrals and head towards the store the Asset leading the way. But upon stepping inside the automatic doors it’s like a physical barrier. It cannot walk one step further. Steve gives him a confused look before stepping close resting a hand on its lower back. 

“Hey, it’s alright. No one’s gonna hurt us.” He murmurs close to the Asset’s ear. Bucky nods forcing his legs to move. Steve’s hand doesn’t leave and for that he is grateful. First, Steve guides them to the hygiene aisles. Here he grabs a large bottle of shampoo, body wash, two toothbrushes, toothpaste, and mouthwash. The Asset throws in flossing picks as well. You can’t have good dental hygiene without floss.

It is clear to see that Steve is at ease here, unlike at the house. Among all these people he navigates without a thought for safety or trouble. This would be the moment guilt creeps in for shutting Steve away from all that is natural to him. But the Asset knows it is too greedy and selfish. No, he wants Steve Rogers all to himself carefully kept away from those who would hurt him. 

A quick detour for three packs of socks and underwear for them both before they go to the produce area, where they both go a little crazy. Good to see at least Steve is conscious of his diet even if he is not with flossing. After that are the canned items, dairy, bread, and some sweets that Steve does not even try to sneak. When the Asset makes an annoyed noise at the junk food Steve gives him an unimpressed look.

“These aren’t gonna kill me, Buck. Anyway, get something for yourself.” The Asset settles back into an annoyed silence. This is not how a hostage is supposed to talk to their captor. But, in the end, it grabs two chocolate bars, long rows of individual pieces in the shape of a triangle. For some reason this gets Steve to smile and it is not going to wonder why or if buying sweets will get more. 

By the end of an hour they have carefully rationed out two hundred dollars for groceries. Its stomach is growling in anticipation but they still have two more stores to go to before this trip is finished. A deep breath in...and release. He can do this. 

There is no doubt the debit card is being monitored closely. It is with this in mind the Asset drives them another hour away to another city. Steve complains about the sheer amount of driving time and gas they’re using but it ignores all that. Repeat transaction of Steve pulling another $400 from the ATM. This time he drives them to a camping store.

“What are we needing here? Not that I mind, but we’ve only got about two hundred left and I still want to get you new clothes and shoes.” 

“After,” it replies. Steve sighs shaking his head in exasperation. 

“Alright, but I’m keeping $80 in my pocket for clothes. The rest you can spend on whatever camping stuff you think we need.” 

Going into this store is easier than the superstore. Not nearly the same flood of people. Actually there is only a handful of people wandering around inside and that includes the employees. A female employee starts to approach them asking if they need anything but Steve politely turns her away, saying they’re fine, as the Asset marches off to the tent aisle. 

“Buck, don’t be rude. You can at least shake your head no to questions,” he scolds as he catches up. It nods and starts to look at tents weighing the cost versus the size. They don’t need anything enormous. If HYDRA or SHIELD or Steve’s friends find them they will need to be ready to flee. This time the Asset is going to be prepared for that eventuality. It will not let either one of them be caught. 

Moving on, it picks out two sleeping bags, a hiking backpack, a portable camp stove that will easily fit, and finally a survival knife. Good to have a knife back in its hand. Steve who has stayed quiet this entire time just trailing behind and holding the purchases as the Asset hands the items to him speaks up.

“Any certain reason we’re getting ready to go hiking? Or are you an enthusiast now? I didn’t realize that you were back when we were tromping all over Occupied France or something.” Steve casually asks as they head towards the checkout counter. All together the total will come right up against the $320 limit. The Mission is far less funny than he thinks. It simply rolls its eyes at Steve, not bothering to answer that question. If he can’t does not know why they are prepping, than he is clearly far less aware of the danger they are in for being in the public eye for so long. 

Once the camping supplies are stashed in the backseat (too many groceries in the trunk) the Asset heads to the consignment store it saw earlier on the drive into this small city. This shopping is the quickest yet of the day and for that it is glad. At Steve’s insistence for tops he gets a jacket, two hoodies, and three long sleeve shirts. Pants are three pairs of sweatpants and three pairs of jeans. On a whim he grabs a cheap pair of sneakers. Although they don’t have any support and likely will not stand up to the wear of being on the run, he doesn’t want to wear out his combat boots so fast. Those will need to last most of all.

All in all, it is been a four-hour excursion and the Asset is absolutely exhausted by the time they get in the van for the drive home. Pathetic--he’s been trained to endure much harsher conditions--but all the same he is grateful for the reprieve. Three hours and they will be back in  
safety. 

Steve has gone quiet. He too must be exhausted from this day. 

\--

It is a pleasant feeling to have the house filled with groceries. Dare the Asset even say the place is beginning to feel more cozy with actual food available? But even with the tentative feeling they have of settling down, the Asset is uneasy. It is odd to long for orders that will not come. Never once has he been given a free day. Either he was training, on missions, being repaired or spending long stretches in cryo until one of those three activities. Without that he is… _bored_. It is clear that Steve is too.

It is in the living room, rummaging around the many bookshelves, that he finds a how-to book about knitting. Sitting atop the books next to it is a pair of knitting needles jabbed through a ball of yarn. Checking the other shelves, Bucky finds three more balls of yarn resting atop the books. Purple, gold, green, and pink in total. He takes the pink one first and settles down on the couch, resting his back against the arm of it, pushing his toes down in between the cushions. 

Steve, in turn, takes up reading the manga in the second bedroom, often settling into the bed that’s situated underneath the window where the sun comes in the strongest during the day. 

Later that night, Bucky still can’t stop thinking about the feeling of Steve’s shoulder and hand on him from the day before. A sharp hunger wells inside him. He wants more of that. Wants to nuzzle into Steve’s chest and have his hair played with. There is one small collection of happy memories from HYDRA. It was the affection of one particular guard would show him. She was not predatory as some of the others became over time. When he would wake from cryo it was to the feeling of her stroking his hair. It was grounding to have that touch. Occasionally when she had the time and he was alone in his cell she would stop by to ask if he wanted a back scratch or hair pets. Rarely would he turn her down. 

And now that he is free, he can have that from Steve if he so chooses. Not that he has offered yet, but the Asset is sure that, if he asked, Steve would not refuse the request. With how desperate Steve’s been for social contact, Bucky is well aware of how much he’d likely give if only asked. 

\--

It’s petty and small of him, but seeing Bucky wearing the shield is jarring. Over the years, Steve began to think of the shield as _his_. Without it he feels even further detached. Captain America is more than that piece of vibranium, but here in this place of someone else’s life, it’s just one more thing stripped away from him. 

At this point they’ve been here a month, and he still feels no more at home than when Bucky first brought him here. Meanwhile, Bucky is flourishing in this isolation. He doesn’t speak any more than he did before, but his comfort is clear in the easy way he moves and that he’s becoming more expressive. 

There’s no use denying it--Steve is trapped and he’s suffocating from Bucky’s refusal to let him go far from the house. Steve had found that out the first time he’d intended to go on a walk through the woods. Bucky had appeared at his side, frowning hard. Instead of pushing to be allowed to roam, he had backed down and looped around the house. 

But at the same time Bucky’s thriving, there’s clearly something more he wants and Steve has a good idea that it’s a mutual want. So one night when Bucky’s just getting into bed (he’s claimed the recliner so Steve won’t be out of sight) that Steve sighs loudly turning over onto his left side to look at him. 

“Buck, you can’t be comfortable in that. Why don’t you come lay down with me? It’s only a queen bed but we can make it work.” Bucky freezes blinking owlishly as if he can’t believe the suggestion. It’s not without selfish reasons Steve asks. Despite that it’s Bucky who has him under lock and key Steve wants to be close to him again physically and emotionally. He didn’t realize living with this new version meant having neither of those options. It’s killing him. 

They weren’t in a romantic relationship before the war or after Steve got the serum, but they were close. Over the years when Bucky was presumed dead, Steve had tormented himself with the thought of _what if_? What if Steve had asked to try something out or--God, even after the serum, he’d not reached out. And now...now he is afraid. A lie to say he’s not noticed Bucky’s slender toned body. Often times he prefers to wander around in sweatpants and a tanktop of Steve’s despite the size differences. And he’s unapologetic of his nudity when he strips down for a shower or getting dressed after one. 

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I-” 

“I do.” Steve gapes momentarily. Oh. Well. Okay then. 

“Well come on get in then. Getting cold.” He holds up the comforter. Bucky is up and out of the recliner and under the covers in a flash. That gets Steve to smile. That’s a good sign at least. He’s not alone in wanting to be close. 

What he’s unprepared for is Bucky sprawling on top of him before he rolls his hips against Steve’s. Bucky’s hands are braced on either side of Steve’s head as he does so. He gasps in surprise arousal rolling over him in a hot wave. Bucky chuckles next to his ear and _jesus_ that goes right to the pit of his stomach. His dick definitely loves the sound. It’s when Bucky presses a kiss against the corner of his lips does Steve start to push back. 

“Buck-stop-” He demands pushing at Bucky’s chest. Not with any real force but hard enough to get his point across. But Bucky ignores that instead holding Steve’s hands against the mattress as he in earnest nips at Steve’s jaw, his grasp tightening when he jerks his head away.

“I said no!” Steve snaps. 

Bucky sits back on Steve’s hips brow deeply furrowed as he frowns down at him still holding onto his hands. Steve has to take a couple deep breaths to regain his composure. It doesn’t help as what leaps from his mouth isn’t, “Bucky, I wasn’t inviting you into bed to have sex with me.” Instead it’s “That’s _not_ okay, Buck.” 

This seems to truly take him aback as his grasp goes slack. Steve swallows. Well, he’s got his attention now. 

“Why…” He stops unsure how to put into words his current emotions. Confusion, fright, anger. They both very well know who and what circumstances have shaped the Winter Soldier’s idea of being sexual. A deep breath in and out. 

“First off, we need to talk about what just happened, but we’re doing that tomorrow. Second, you can still sleep here, and third, I’m not angry with you, okay?” Steve gently squeezes Bucky’s forearms. He hasn’t moved or made any expression that he’s heard or agreed with anything Steve just said. 

“I’m gonna say it again and I want you to listen to me. I’m not angry at you, Buck. I think we both messed up and I want to figure out what we both want and need if we’re going to be intimate with each other. If you wanna go back to your recliner that’s okay too. I want you to be comfortable.” 

With far too much exaggerated care (he’s still stiff) Bucky moves off of Steve before retreating to his recliner. Steve turns his back on him facing the wall once Buck’s settled down. Hot tears slip over the bridge of his nose onto his pillow. He’s scared this may be an obstacle too staggering to overcome.

\--

When Steve wakes up in the morning it’s to find the recliner empty, Bucky’s comforter crumpled up. There’s no sounds of moving around in the house, so likely he’s checking the perimeter of the house and out into the woods for any possible hidden agents. Steve sighs up at the ceiling rubbing at his face before he gets out of bed to begin his morning workout routine. Even though he doesn’t have the luxury of workout equipment or access to jog (he hates the thought of his cardio deteriorating), still, he can keep fit inside. 

Two hours later he’s finished up and heading to take a shower when the porch steps creak under Bucky’s tread. Steve almost pauses. Almost. Instead he closes the bathroom door behind himself. It can wait another ten minutes. He still doesn’t know how to sort out his feelings on the matter.

By the time he’s finished showering Bucky’s stretched out on the couch with his knitting. Inhale - exhale. He can do this. Today’s outfit is sweatpants and a hoodie. Nonetheless, despite the casual clothing, sweat begins to prick at him as he walks out to the living room.

“Bucky,” Steve states getting a glance up from him. The needles click as Bucky works. “We need to talk about last night.” A stubborn purse of the lips as Bucky looks back at his knitting. Steve pushes Bucky’s legs out of his way so he can sit down on the couch. This is important and not going to be ignored that easily. 

“Listen, what happened….it…” God, where are his eloquent Captain America speeches now? This is all his awkward self. “We were never romantic before but...is that something you want? For you? This isn’t going to be about…” He gestures helplessly, “ _Owing_ me anything or that you should be sexual with me. You’ve gotta tell me, Buck, I need to know what you want, what you’re comfortable with.” 

Bucky’s mouth which has thinned to a tight line is clear about his feelings towards talking. But if there’s one thing that’s left of him, it’s that he’ll eventually talk when prodded enough. True to form after a few minutes of him staring at his hands, one normal the other metal cradling the pink yarn, he does speak.

“I want you. Since I saw you on the bridge. I took you because of it.” Steve’s breath is taken from him by Bucky’s words and the smoldering look in his eyes. _Oh_. An unwanted flush creeps up his neck. 

“Not because you remembered me?” God, there’s too much hope in his voice. Too late now. The shake of Bucky’s head confirms the small quiet death of it. 

“No. Just that I wanted you to be _mine_. I wouldn’t let HYDRA kill you or SHIELD have you.” Bucky frowns. “But you don’t want me.” 

Steve grasps Bucky’s knee quite overwhelmed by what he’s hearing. An assurance that indeed Bucky’s truly telling him this and it’s not a hallucination. 

“My God, Buck, it’s….it’s not that I don’t want you. But being kidnapped isn’t really conducive to getting in the mood, nor is being silent for days on end.” Here at least Bucky has the dignity to look slightly scolded. Steve gently squeezes his knee which gets him a small smile in return and nudge in the side. 

“How about we go slow since we’re both wanting to try being intimate. I can’t say I’ve done too much when it comes to men…” He swallows down the rest of his sentence. Despite his words he can’t bring himself to ask just what Bucky may or may not know in regards to this topic. The thought that there is another layer to the misery that was HYDRA’s programming doesn’t bear thinking about. 

“Well - anyways how about we make breakfast? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you skipping out on that. Time to change that.” Steve says mock stern which makes Bucky smile again. How he’s missed that expression. 

\--

After breakfast Steve settles on the front porch in the lone rocking chair finally able to snatch a moment outside as Bucky is puttering around in the garden at the side of the house. He wants to go out farther, run through the trees, but he can only imagine the freak-out that would incur. Afterwards he probably wouldn’t even be allowed to stand by a window or get close to the front or back door for fear of bolting. 

A sigh gusts out of him as he slowly rocks himself back and forth with his right foot. This isn’t healthy what they’ve got going on and Steve isn’t sure how long he can take this. But he can’t bring himself to fight for his freedom not when Bucky seems to be doing marginally better already. Not when he’s just got him back. Even at the cost of not being the man he used to be. 

With shameful curiosity Steve wants to know who Bucky will become as he begins to reclaim his boundaries and an identity as a whole. 

At the same time it’s this boundary building that has him most concerned about initiating a romantic or sexual relationship. In part due to the fact what he told Buck was true. They weren’t romantic before the war (he was pathetic enough without the scathing label of homosexual) and now - well - it feels a betrayal of the man he knew. But when Bucky kissed him in bed last night he liked it. In fact he wanted more--it was just too overwhelming in the moment. Too much too fast and with a man he felt he still barely knew. 

Well there’s no time like now to go after the answers he wants. He might not get up the stomach or courage to ask if he puts off asking any longer. 

Heaving himself to his feet he strolls around the house to where Bucky’s in the garden plot. Bucky started messing around with it this morning and has made good progress tilling the soil. It’s not an enormous plot by any means but he’s worked up a light sweat. Steve swallows at the sight of the shield’s harness around Bucky’s damp shoulders and back. The shield lies face down at the edge of the garden within easy reach should trouble come knocking. He settles down beside the shield wrapping his arms around his drawn up knees resting his chin on top. 

Bucky glances over at him giving a soft smile as he continues his work. Steve can’t bring forth a smile in return. This isn’t going to be enjoyable for either of them but it’s necessary. Vital if they’re going to include sex in their relationship.

“Buck, I know you don’t want to discuss it, but we need to. What happened when you were with HYDRA?”

\--

The Asset swallows hard its grip tightening on the hoe’s handle. In the silence the plates on the metal arm shift restlessly. It does not want to relive _those_ memories. His brain may have been put in a blender but HYDRA is still recent enough that his mind recalls most of what was done to him. 

He struggles to breathe properly. He is edging on panic. _No_. He doesn’t want to remember. Even Steve can’t force him to. The Asset - _Bucky_ \- is free. No one can force him to do anything ever again that he will ensure until his dying breath. A glare directed at Steve who simply gazes back at him his face set. No, he’s not going to give ground on his side either. So that’s how two hours pass in silence as he works Steve just watching. When he can no longer justify messing around with the soil anymore or indeed just standing there spacing off he walks past Steve and into the house.

Steve doesn’t follow and when Bucky comes back from the kitchen with the handful of seed packets Steve’s sprawled out on his back resting his hands behind his head watching the sky. It’s not until Bucky has carefully planted half of the veggies does he choose to speak. Steve will not bully him into this no matter what good he thinks this will do. 

“They made me into the Winter Soldier.” He states speaking to the soil and his dirty hands. Out of the corner of his eye Steve turns his head towards him. A deep breath in that he holds before slowly exhaling. “I was given the serum after I was captured when you came to get me. Afterward the fall--when I was dead to everyone--that’s when HYDRA gave me the arm. When my body didn’t reject the operations that’s when it started. Endurance and weapons training. Not the worst. Something I could push through.” His jaw locks and it’s difficult to relax enough to speak.

“It was the punishments. For mistakes in training or missions. Speaking out and because they could.” Bucky meets Steve’s gaze who has now sat up. “Sex could soften the blow if you offered first. The handlers found favorites among the Winter Soldiers.” 

Steve is gaping blue eyes wide with shock and horror. His throat works as he swallows. 

“Did you think that’s why I asked you to lay down with me? Out of punishment for - for something?” A humorless smile twists the Asset’s lips. 

“Not for punishment.”

Steve sits blinking at him speechless. Perhaps he recoils at the thought of becoming like the handlers because he switches topics, fast.

“How did you escape HYDRA without them noticing? I mean long enough for you to get a head start? Where were you being held?” Bucky continues planting the vegetables. They are on safer ground now. This is easy to talk about.

“We were on the move back to home base in Russia. Not many places strong enough to hold a Winter Soldier here. Easy enough to strangle the handler during punishment.” Steve’s expression curdles in disgust. Whether at the needless killing or because he knows what that means now. “After that it was hiding out, killing the HYDRA agents around your apartment, and stealing you away.” 

Steve nods slowly for lack of any other reaction to give. He had no other choice. It was either their lives or his and Bucky refused to lose his mind again so soon.

“How long do you plan for us to live here? Fall and winter will be here soon and living in an abandoned house isn’t the best place to be.” Steve asks and that - that is not something he had thought about. Or rather chosen not to. Rather he’s been living day by day. The future was an unbearable idea as the Winter Soldier under the command of HYDRA. Best to think of nothing but the immediate present. 

A shrug is all he can answer with. Steve sighs covering his face with his hand as if the thought of staying here long term is too much. 

“Fine. For now we stay.”

It’s clear from Steve’s demeanor that he isn’t happy with their last discussion. He doesn’t want to stay here but it is the best place for them. They are alone and insignificant in this abandoned home belonging to someone who will never come back. Bucky doesn’t like knowing that Steve’s unhappy--however, he would rather have that than him be dead.

\--

Time passes, the days blending into weeks. Bucky doesn’t like it, but they keep their distance after the discussion. Neither one is pleased with how things ended, with nothing resolved. The hunger for Steve’s touch again has turned into a constant craving that follows him around. Even roaming far into the woods does nothing to soothe what he wants. But he is afraid to ask to be rejected for the defilement of his body by HYDRA. He well can remember the horror and disgust this knowledge elicited in Steve. Bucky keeps the hunger carefully kept inside. 

So it’s a pleasant surprise when Steve unearths the Scrabble box from the hallway closet in the morning while looking for Q-tips. Come dinner time he puts it beside his plate. Bucky raises an eyebrows as he sets down the platter holding four hamburgers two for each of them. 

“I want to keep my mind sharp.” He states to which Bucky shrugs and nods. It would be a nice change to do something together rather than just existing around one another. Dinner is a quiet affair as they eat after which Steve cleans up while Bucky reads the instructions and sets up. They each get their assigned number of letters Bucky smiling to himself as he look over what he’s got to work with. If there’s one gift HYDRA has given him it’s a mind for languages. This game will be an easy win. 

“Buck, that’s German. Not fair.” Steve frowns down at the board ten minutes into the game. Bucky shrugs a smile lightly pulling at his lips.

“Didn’t say we had to stick with English.” A laugh from Steve. He shakes his head although he’s smiling and Bucky is assured he doesn’t really mind. It’s a fairly quiet game only broken when Steve asks what foreign word he used. Easy enough; Bucky wins, but that doesn’t matter. No, he pays more attention to Steve, drinking in his features and the look of concentration as he compares his letters with what’s on the board.

Watching him only cements the fear and protectiveness in Bucky’s heart. He will not let anyone take this away from him. Not again.

They play three rounds of the game (two wins for Bucky and one for Steve) before Steve is yawning almost every five minutes. Finally he rubs at his eyes leaning back in his chair after the final round. 

“Alright, I’m gonna have to call it a night, Buck. You’ve proven you’re a master of languages now.” 

Bucky is not ready yet. Doesn’t want to sleep by himself for one more night. He swallows preparing himself. 

“Can we try again? Laying down.” He forces himself to ask gone all cotton mouth with nerves. Steve blinks in surprise before a serious expression takes its place. 

“This isn’t you forcing yourself, right? _You_ want to lay down?” Bucky nods knowing he is hoping too much. Steve relaxes at his affirmation he wants this, that it isn’t a holdover from his abuse. “I’d like that.” 

It is a break in protocol but he doesn’t go out on patrol. Instead he only double checks that both front and back door are locked along with the windows. Eagerness and hunger threaten to overwhelm him. By the time he makes it to their bedroom Steve has stripped down to his boxers (clothes folded on top of his duffel bag). 

Arousal flickers down his spine even though this isn’t about being sexual. Still, Steve is pretty much damn near on display. Lying in bed sprawled out on his back watching Bucky take him in. Those broad shoulders with a waist that slims into small pretty hips covered by the comforter. Steve’s muscular and there’s no hiding the swells to his biceps and especially that chest. His pecs sculpted into high firm tits. Bucky wants to put his teeth to them see if Steve’s sensitive. 

“You coming to bed? Or you just going to stand there looking?” Steve teases. 

Bucky takes off the shield leaning it against the duffel bag before stripping off his tank top, hoodie, and sweatpants leaving them on the floor unfolded. He is very aware of Steve’s eyes trailing over his body in return. The metal arm makes soft noises as the plates settle. He gets into bed feeling awkward. After how he acted the first time he’s surprised Steve is willing to let him come back. Bucky lays down on his side so they are face to face. The whole time Steve watches him smiling. His hair is starting to get a little shaggy and without asking Bucky reaches out to play with it but he’s drawn up short by the jarring contrast of his metallic hand against Steve’s face. 

It’s Steve who grasps his hand pressing it against his jaw. 

“I don’t mind. That feels good.” Steve murmurs. Bucky desperately wants to kiss him but instead strokes his thumb back and forth over Steve’s cheek before he moves up to sink his fingers into Steve’s hair scratching his scalp. This gets a low groan of delight Steve shifting just a small bit towards him, towards what feels so good.

Christ, Steve is making go slow difficult. He wants to nuzzle Steve’s throat but he wants the expressions of sleepy pleasure more. The arousal ratchets up when Steve’s hand comes to rest over his ribs. Soft slow circles into Bucky’s skin with his fingertips. Heat spreads over his body at the touch. It’s somehow all the more erotic for its intimacy. Not long after Bucky starts playing with Steve’s hair he falls asleep. He relishes the fact that Steve feels safe and cozy enough to entrust being vulnerable at his side. The knowledge soothes a tiny bit of his craving for Steve’s body.

\--

When dawn begins to lighten the curtains and seep into the room Bucky slowly begins to wake up. Likely he should struggle more to have a normal circadian rhythm. God alone knows how cryo had altered it each time he was let out. Days would pass as he would train in his cell wide awake his brain no longer used to regulating anything much less sleep patterns. But in their time in the abandoned house his body has regained a semblance of normal sleeping. 

The pressing urge of his bladder reminds Bucky why he started to wake up. Thankfully Steve has curled up away from him so they are touching from their backs to their butts. Easy escape to the bathroom. After relieving himself Bucky stripes off his underwear to get in the shower but stops when he catches sight of his body in the bathroom mirror. 

Over the course of the months of them living here he’s gained weight. Hard not to when he’s eating more carbs and protein than what he used to be fed. The realization startles him to really notice for the first time. He had not thought HYDRA underfed him, although he was aware the meals and nutrient drips weren’t swimming with calories. However, it’s not only that--he’s taken note of the difference between his body against Steve’s which is whole, muscular, and unmarred. The quick glimpses of nudity revealed that he is unharmed all over. 

But he, Bucky, is not whole or unmarked. The plates of the metal arm whir and shift at his inner turmoil. What troubles him most is the scarring. He runs his fingers over it. As if his skin was candle wax that bubbled when the arm was affixed. The area doesn’t hurt, as the nerves have been too damaged by the trauma of the multiple surgeries done to feel much of anything. The scarring crawls down his back as well to his hip bones from where the doctors tore into him in order to reinforce the bones. Keep his body from tearing apart from the strain of the arm. See how far they could modify the Asset before it would break. 

He, as the Asset, was not made to be a thing of beauty, only an efficient weapon. But Steve Rogers was a weapon too, just held by different hands, and he is physically unharmed. However, the serum Bucky was given is different from Steve’s version. There’s no enhanced healing, just an abnormally high tolerance for pain. Over the course of his service his body has been nicked and marred by wounds. The only one he is proud of is the silvered rope of a scar across his right hip from a deep knife wound he received years ago.

Before he can take that line of thinking any further (to the mind and memories he no longer has) Steve is opening the door and would have hit him if Bucky hadn’t move aside. It’s clear that Steve’s only just woken up still in his boxers. Steve’s hair is wild in its uncombed state. 

He stops expression surprised at Bucky as if not quite sure what he’s doing in the bathroom. Or rather for the fact Bucky is just standing here naked. 

“Sorry, didn’t realize you were getting in the shower.” Steve mumbles backing out closing the door but stops when Bucky says, “Wait.” He steps back inside watching him. 

It’s a few seconds as Bucky turns the words over in his head. Although he speaks more it still takes him a minute. 

“Do you not want to touch me because of my scars?” It’s an inadequate question for what he really wants to ask, but it’s easier for both of them. Steve opens his mouth to reply before he closes it considering what he wants to say.

“It’s not because of your scars, Buck. Just something I’m still getting used to. It’s,” He gestures aimlessly. “Frankly it’s intimidating. That I can have this with you but at the same time knowing you’ve dealt with rape and abuse, that weighs heavy on me. I don’t want to push.” 

Bucky steps close reaching out for a hug which Steve steps into. He tucks his face into Steve’s shoulder taking comfort. His nakedness feels natural, comfortable the way it never did before. He hums in happiness when Steve rubs his back. The trailing warmth of Steve’s large hand caressing from the nape of his neck down to his lower back. Bucky can feel the way Steve’s heart is beating faster than normal.

“I want what you have to give, Steve. I can speak up. Can I kiss you now?” 

Steve nods and Bucky is kissing him, teasing to be honest. Light little kisses that have Steve chasing after. This earns a chuckle before Steve cups the back of Bucky’s head so he can kiss him firmly fingers playing with his hair. He feels no shame making noises of pleasure. The handlers never minded and that seems to hold true for Steve too. 

A whimper escapes when Steve gently gathers up his hair in a messy ponytail with one hand as he starts kissing and mouthing at his jaw. The other hand rests warm and heavy on his lower back firmly pressing them together. Oh yes, he very much likes this over the handlers’ treatment. Steve kisses his ear lightly before he’s stepping back, grinning, as if leaving Bucky hanging is fair. 

“Jump in the shower. We can fool around after we’ve had breakfast.”

Bucky very much plans for that.

\--

After breakfast, in which they eat far too much, Steve settles in the second bedroom with yet another manga. They’re almost out of food even with the rationing (discounting today) and they’ll have no choice but to head back to town. He doesn’t look forward to bringing this up with Bucky, but damn it he’s ready to leave this house if only for a few hours. 

A sigh as he soaks up the morning sunshine that’s coming in. Soon enough he’s dozing off. It’s not until the mattress dips beneath Bucky’s weight does he startle awake. 

“What’s up?” Steve asks sleepily although he wakes up more when Bucky sits down on his hips. Well, he did promise after breakfast was fair game. Bucky tousles Steve’s hair such a concentrated expression on his face as he scratches his scalp absorbed by playing with his shaggy blond hair. Steve runs his hands up and down Bucky’s thighs sometimes dragging his short nails against the fabric of the sweatpants. He loves the heavy, warm weight on top of him. It’s Bucky who leans down to kiss him. 

They kiss for a long while lazily rutting against each other. No urgency despite how much they’ve been wanting this. 

\--

Bucky loves the way Steve’s hands feel on him. He wants to feel more and that’s why he takes it upon himself to initiate for more. A relief when Steve had assured he wanted to be sexual but just not so fast. So if he’s not ready to fuck that’s okay, he’ll take anything else offered. 

It’s why when he sees Steve once again curled up in the bed in the second bedroom under the window he decides to go for what he wants. Steve looks up when he comes a smile following a second later Bucky returns it. 

“Hey, what’s up?” 

“I want to cuddle.” He states. A grin from Steve as he pats the space next to his side. 

“Of course.” Bucky shakes his head. 

“No, I want to lay down and cuddle.” Steve raises his eyebrows at this a small smile curling one side of his lips. 

“Aren’t we demanding tonight.” In spite of the teasing Steve stretches out to put aside his book on the nightstand before scooting down onto his back. Bucky gets into bed not hesitating in the least with curling up. He rests his head in the crook between Steve’s shoulder and chest. The perfect spot to nuzzle. The motion gets a chuckle out of Steve. 

“What’s got you so lovey-dovey today?” Steve asks as he begins to scratch his scalp. Bucky’s toes curl at the drag of Steve’s trimmed nails up and down the nape of his neck. How hungry he’s been for this kind of physical touch. And with Steve being a solid wall of muscles makes it all so perfect. 

“Happy.” 

\--

Even after their affectionate afternoon it’s not easy for Bucky to leave the house. As Steve rather suspected the second trip to the store doesn’t go well at all. This time around they don’t talk much (what’s left to say, when they see each other constantly?) for the three hour trip. Bucky drives them to another random town three hours away. Again Steve pulls money from an ATM before they go to a grocery store this time the full two hundred dollars at their disposal. 

But once they’re in the store, Steve finds he can’t bring himself to speed through like Bucky wants who has a baseball cap pulled down low, shoulders hunched, eyes only for the food they’ve got on their list. Instead, he lingers over the newspapers, browses through the book section, eyeballs the kitchenware. Silly things they don’t need and he otherwise wouldn’t care about at all. But the thought of returning back to the house, to the same rooms he’s walked around inside of too many times, makes him want to scream.

Is it really too much to ask they spend a little time amongst people? It’s not that Steve is blowing off the fact that HYDRA and SHIELD both are watching for them but he needs a break. He needs other people.

Bucky isn’t in the mood to accommodate though. He shifts restlessly tapping his fingers on the the bar of the cart. 

“Steve. We need to leave.” He urges as Steve picks up a third book to look over. Steve tightens his jaw as he puts the book back down a little harder than he needs to. A small dent is left in the cheap metal of the bookshelf. Clearly he’s going to be badgered until they leave. 

It’s a tense drive back as Steve bites at the inside of his cheek. Frankly he’s tired of this. His empathy for Bucky needing to be alone has worn thin. 

Of course, he helps unload and puts away groceries. He may be upset but he’s not rude. It’s after the last bit has been put away in the freezer Steve turns and walks out the back door. His nerves twinge when he hears the bang of the screen door a second time. Bucky isn’t far behind. 

“Leave me alone!” he shouts, jaw clenching, when he still hears Bucky walking after him. “Bucky, get away!” Steve whirls around to find Bucky has stopped a few feet from him. “You won’t let me help you and you won’t let me leave this godforsaken house!” He’s still shouting and right now he couldn’t care less about that. It’s unbelievably frustrating this current way of living. 

He’s going bananas from being inside all the time with this stranger. Steve needs to get out and clear his head. Take a step away from this situation.

“Go protect the house! I’m coming back in an hour. If I don’t you’ll be able to find me anyways.” Steve says before he marches off. At the treeline of the backyard he shoots a glance over his shoulder to find Bucky has sat down in the grass just watching him. 

For once Steve doesn’t feel sorry for turning away. Marching into the woods is definitely the best choice he could make right now. As the trees hide him from Bucky’s eyes the tension loosens from his shoulders and jaw. Steve sighs as he scratches at his scalp. He’s not sure what he was expecting after Bucky drugged and kidnapped him. Right then and there he shouldn’t have assumed there was anything of Bucky Barnes left within the Winter Soldier. But still he had hoped. Besides Bucky’s been getting more affectionate as they’ve lived together. Steve thought perhaps this meant he was making some progress.

What can he do though? It’s clear beyond a reasonable doubt that Bucky isn’t ready to be a part of society. However, Steve can’t stay locked up inside permanently. He needs to get back to SHIELD. Let the organization and public know he isn’t gone forever. Guilt gnaws at him. 

Steve swallows hard as he in vain tries to not tear up. Jesus Christ, how can he help someone who doesn’t want it? Who is willing to lock them both away? It’s not healthy and Steve...Steve can’t live life that way, not even for Bucky. The sobs hiccup out of him unbidden as he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. God he doesn’t want to do this but he _needs_ more freedom. He cannot be trapped in the same dark place Bucky is in.

\---

Bucky (the name has grown on him) sits awaiting Steve’s return. He’s thankful when at the hour mark Steve comes back from the woods. The last thing he wants to do is hunt down Steve. Not after all the closeness that’s begun to develop between them. What’s clear is that from the set of his shoulders Steve has something to say. Perhaps he will order Bucky not to touch him so freely anymore, or worse - that he is leaving. Steve does not realize he had the power to leave since he got here. Bucky could not admit to himself until now that this isolation is for him far more than it was ever for Steve. A foolish and arrogant notion that he ever needed the Asset to watch over him.

Bucky wishes he could give the words Steve needs but it is an impossibility. When HYDRA had finished with the Winter Soldier he found there were no more words inside of him. Orders to be given and answers to questions when necessary but there is safety and comfort in the silence.

Steve settles down beside him and Bucky finds his heart rate has gone up. He is _scared_ of what Steve is going to say. Of the anger that radiates from him. The startling realization hits him that he doesn’t want to lose this tranquil life, but even more than that, he doesn’t want to lose Steve. If it is within his grasp, he will do almost anything for this man at his side. 

A deep sigh drawn in and released before Steve looks at him. Bucky’s chest aches to see that Steve’s eyes and nose have become flushed pink. He’s been crying. The thought that _he_ has caused this is awful. Even without the hand of HYDRA guiding him still it seems it is in his nature to cause anguish. Bucky doesn’t want to be like that any longer.

“Buck, I love you. I always have and always will. But I need you to give me my freedom. I can’t stay sheltered inside all the time and we can’t stay here forever. I’m going to leave once we’ve eaten through our current stock. SHIELD - the world--needs me. Will you come with me?” 

Bucky swallows gone cotton mouthed at the decision placed before him. Stay or leave. Solitude or a life with Steve. 

“Us?” He gestures between them. Will this all go away when Steve slips back into the persona of Captain America? Will he be forced to become a ghost story once more?

“Together until the end. I’m not going to lose you again.” 

His throat feels tight as he blinks back the sudden rush of tears. This choosing, this love should not mean so much but it does. Steve wants him. Despite everything, the blood on his hands and his blank mind, nonetheless Steve will take all that he has to offer.

\--

That night it is Bucky who comes to bed. Steve simply watching laying on his side lets himself be gently pushed over onto his back. Bucky settles on top of Steve, skin on skin. They’re both down to their skivvies. They run too warm for PJs and besides Bucky wants - _needs_ \- to feel Steve against him. 

Steve plays with his hair alternating between scratching his scalp and stroking his hair. Bucky’s eyes grow heavy even as he caresses Steve’s jaw liking the rasping sound of his fingers against the stubble. How comforting this gentle touching is. No expectations for anything more. 

Eventually Steve’s hands drift down to the nape of his neck and the tops of his shoulders. Bucky hums in appreciation, shifting up so that Steve can reach further down his back, and feels a chuckle low in Steve’s chest as he rubs up and down his back, putting his nails into it when Bucky squirms. 

\-- 

A week passes after their discussion although tension still lurks. Steve knows that Bucky isn’t happy about the deadline that’s been put upon him for leaving. Likely he would choose never to go but Steve’s done living this way. He’s ready to return to the world at large. 

What threatens the fragile understanding is the unexpected arrival of two men on the property out of the blue. On the momentous day Steve is taking a nap (after his morning jog through the woods) and Bucky is in the garden as usual. 

“Hello? Anyone hoooome?” A guy’s voice calls out startling Steve awake who blinks and rubs at his gritty eyes. Before he can call back there’s a scream and another man shouting in anger before he too is cut silent. Steve is out of bed and into the hallway in seconds. The sight that greets him is a pale lanky teenager sprawled on the floor his brown hair covering his face. Before he can shout for Bucky the latter is strolling up the gravel driveway a larger blond man slung over his back. 

“Bucky, what the hell?!” Steve hisses as Bucky lays the man beside the kid. This is bad. Captain America and the Winter Soldier gone missing and now hitchhikers are disappearing. The media will be playing up this possible connection. Bucky frowns at him as if irritated by the scolding. Steve wants to rip his hair. Instead he just yanks at it. This is not good at all. If these two should escape they’ll bring down the force of the Oregon police. Likely SHIELD and HYDRA too once they mention Captain America. 

“They weren’t a threat, stupid!” The words spit from his mouth unintentional. But right now this is too much to take. “This is going to bring a lot of people down our heads once these two are reported missing!” 

Bucky clenches his jaw his eyes cold. Steve sighs forcing himself to try and calm down. 

The teenager (no. A young man, Steve realizes. They are close in age. Probably only a couple years difference) is the one to regain consciousness first. He sits up rubbing at his eyes as he looks around in confusion. When he catches sight of his companion at once he crawls over to him. Steve pins Bucky with a look of _don’t you dare leave now_. He’s going to face the music for what he did. 

“Oliver, are you alright? Oliver?” The young man starts to get louder, scared, obvious in the way he firmly shakes Oliver trying to wake him up. 

“He’s alright. Just knocked out. He should be awake in a minute,” Steve informs him, not wanting him to jostle Oliver so much. As skilled as Bucky is at incapacitating people without severely injuring or killing them, Steve rather not worry about him somehow hurting Oliver. The teen looks up mouth agape as his eyes go round with shock. Heated shame crawls over Steve’s body. Here’s the face of justice now holding them captive. 

“You’re - Captain America, right?” He asks words tinged with a foreign accent although he says _Captain America_ with an exaggerated pronunciation as if he’s going for a bland Midwestern accent. Steve nods crouching down and settling on the floor. He doesn’t want to tower over him. 

“Call me Steve. I get called Cap enough. What’s your name?” he inquires. Something to personalize their unexpected hostages. The captive wets his lips eyeing him and Bucky before speaking. 

“Elio.” 

Steve starts to say something trivial like what a nice name but Oliver waking up draws Elio’s entire attention away. 

“Oliver, how’re you feeling?” Elio asks resting a hand on Oliver’s shoulder peering at his face with a concerned expression. 

“I’m fine, just--my head hurts,” Oliver mutters back, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing at his temples. “Who the hell was that? Are _you_ okay, Elio?” He replies opening his eyes reaching out to gently grasp Elio’s jaw who nods eyes flickering to Steve. Oliver follows Elio’s quick glance before he notices Bucky looming in the background. “Jesus Christ.” 

Not quite the reaction he was hoping for but in their present circumstances not surprising. 

“Please tell me you’re going to help us get out of here,” Oliver asks rubbing at his face. He’s already prepared for the bad news. Steve wants to give a different answer but he’s never been one for lying. Even when the truth might be an easier comfort. 

“It’s not me who chose to come out here. Anyway, I’ve been trying to get Buck used to socializing again.” 

“Tch.” Oliver rolls his eyes as if Steve is being purposefully stupid. “This is your idea of socializing? Living in an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere? It’s a wonder he isn’t a socialite yet.” 

Elio stares at Oliver, shocked at his words. “Oliver,” he murmurs, laying a hand on Oliver’s arm. 

“Elio, you can’t tell me you feel sorry for them?” he hisses, angry in his disbelief for Elio’s empathy. “You do understand we’re not able to leave, right?” Elio withdraws looking hurt. Steve feels awful. Not even five minutes they’ve been here and already things are going downhill fast. 

\-- 

Bucky doesn’t like the intrusion of these two, but, according to Steve, he can’t just dump their bodies in the woods. So instead they remain here and put a strain on their resources. They are a dissonant sound to the rhythm he and Steve have established. The temporary peace has been warped by Elio and Oliver. When they think to try and be sneaky they speak Italian to one another (the boy is a native but Oliver isn’t), thinking Bucky and Steve are so uneducated as to not understand a variety of languages. 

There’s a small amount of satisfaction knowing he intimidates them. They watch him with tense muscles and careful eyes the way Steve should have but never did. Oliver does his best to ignore him and be busy when he enters a room. Elio, on the other hand, grows used to Bucky. Soon enough no amount of glowering or silence has much of an effect. Bucky blames the fact Steve doesn’t cower. He puts Elio at ease that much is obvious. 

Now that there are four people in the house, it’s quite crowded. It seems like no matter what room he goes into, someone joins him (besides the bathroom and even then that’s not always assured). It has Bucky’s skin feeling raw--the presence of Elio and Oliver--in a way being around Steve doesn’t. 

Bucky is knitting one evening when Elio comes tromping down from the upstairs attic space (he likes to go up there to listen to his music) before hopping over the back of the couch. Bucky frowns as he waits for Elio to settle down and stop jostling him. Finally he does. Legs tucked against his chest, Elio watches him. 

“So why the scary act? Steve said he didn’t choose to come here. I thought you guys were best friends. At least that’s the impression I got from the Smithsonian museum.” Bucky aims a glare at him. Elio has no idea what he is talking about or what he’s trying to dig into. The kid goes quiet at the look resting his chin on top of his right knee skinny arms wrapped around his legs. Overall he seems too thin. No doubt he’s waiting for an answer. Instead Bucky focuses on his knitting the current project, a hat for Steve. They’re still in the dead of summer but it keeps his hands and attention focused. 

Soon enough Elio fidgets, getting restless with the silence, as he expected. What he doesn’t plan on is Elio grabbing a book and sitting back down on the couch. Before Bucky can move away to the recliner in his and Steve’s room the front door is being pushed open by aforementioned man. 

Steve smiles fondly when he sees them sitting together. Bucky wants to deny, say that Elio is too stubborn to take a no, but Steve is so happy to see him being pleasant. The gentle caress to his hair when Steve crosses over to them is an even surer sign of that. Elio simply watches. It looks like he got his answer after all. 

\-- 

Steve is doing his morning workout (in the living room today, since the weather is heavy rain currently) when Elio joins him. Well not to exercise but because he noticed him as he shuffled to the bathroom. After he does his business Elio lays on the couch watching him yawning occasionally. 

“Does it feel weird to be young but not young? I remember hearing that you were - twenty three or twenty four when you got frozen. What is like? To wake up to this?” Elio asks from where he’s laying lanky limbs curled into himself. His eyes are keen only slightly softened by the mop of wavy brown hair that brushes against his chin. Even though Oliver and Elio have only been here a week conversing with Elio is easy, casual. When they talk Steve feels he really is twenty-eight years and not the heavy burden of an ageless icon. 

A chuckle as he holds himself in a planking position. 

“Like I’m the weird kid out of step when it comes to texting, jokes, or the internet culture in general. It looks fun but super overwhelming from someone who listened to the radio for stories and news.” 

The couch creaks as Elio spills himself out of it. Steve looks up to see he’s sprawled out on his side now at his level on the floor. Elio’s wearing an amused smile. He’s adorable with his hair all tousled even more when he runs his hand through it. 

“Please tell me you know YouTube at least. Or Facebook. Everyone jokes that’s a website everyone under twenty-one avoids. Do you have a cell phone?” This last question said with a grin is the one playfully meant to trip him up. If he says no, he’s a grandpa, yes and he might still be a dinosaur depending on the model. A trick question Steve’s gotten good at recognizing. 

“For one, yes, I know what Youtube is and watch psychology videos on there. Bucky likes to find knitting patterns when we can get signal out here. I’ve got a Facebook but PR runs it for me. And I’ve got a _cell_. Newest that SHIELD can get in fact.” Elio seems taken aback by that last part and before he can comment on it a grin is replacing the expression. 

“Okay, so you aren’t the dinosaur everyone thinks you are. A relief. Don’t worry, I can explain everything else. It’s a lot of being optimistic and pessimistic really. You’ll catch up easy.”  
It’s clear to Steve that Oliver and Elio are close. Oliver keeps after Elio like a worried parent as he explores the house. Or the way he moves protectively closer whenever Bucky comes into the same room. Bucky’s shut down in terms of talking, gone back to his silence of when they were first here. Steve hates it. The worst time for Bucky to decide not to speak. 

However, it’s not until Steve checks on them in the very early morning does he understand just what their relationship is. They’re sleeping in the second bedroom, leaving Bucky and Steve to room together again. Oliver’s sprawled on his back with Elio curled up against his side his head on Oliver’s chest. 

“So how long have you guys been together?” Elio inquires casually as they’re eating breakfast. Bucky (who is once again wearing the shield on his back) looks at Steve who swallows under the expectant gazes from Elio and Oliver. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised by this question. It’s no doubt obvious. Even if Bucky isn’t affectionate at all with these two around and Steve hasn’t felt the most lovey-dovey considering their current circumstances. In fact besides the few times he’s pet Bucky’s hair they’ve not been physical at all. 

“Only recently. We’re starting over.” Steve answers truthfully. No point in telling them the details of why. When they leave likely that all will come to light anyways. He’s thankful that they leave it at that. 

Time crawls slowly on and still they stay. Looking back Steve wishes he would have let them go right from the very beginning Bucky’s paranoia be damned about being found out. 

\-- 

Four days later when Steve wakes up in the early morning hours to use the bathroom he doesn’t notice the stillness to the house. Why would he when it’s four AM? He shuffles into the bathroom, relieves himself and washes his hands. It’s once he turns off the sink that his ears pick up on the silence. In the past couple of weeks he’s gotten used to the sound of Elio and Oliver even when at night. Elio tends to be a pretty restless sleeper as Steve has come to find out. There’s a different quality to this silence. Emptiness. 

Dread churns in his stomach as he strides towards the second bedroom. He pushes open the door to find the bed empty the covers thrown aside. The sight is a sucker punch. _They’re gone_. Goddamn it, he should have followed his gut instinct the moment Bucky knocked them unconscious. Loaded Elio and Oliver into the van, dropped them off in town, lost the van and headed to SHIELD. 

He ducks into his and Bucky’s bedroom hopping into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. It’s humid out tonight but he doesn’t want Elio or Oliver to scratch him up if they come at him fighting. Grateful that for once Bucky left behind his shield. He grimaces. But of course Bucky would. The Asset (Bucky had revealed that’s how he thought of himself) wouldn’t want to reflect any light with the metal chasing after their captives. Silence and stealth are what the Asset needs to recapture them. A _click_ of the shield as it slots into place on Steve’s harness. 

Out of the house he jogs alert to any disturbances. A half hour out from the house Steve finds the three of them. He slows from a jog to a walk straining his ears shifting into creeping quietly when he starts to hear voices. Oliver is the one he sees first. He’s on his knees on the ground his hand clamped over his mouth as if he’s about to puke. Adrenaline sings through Steve’s veins as he moves into Oliver’s view. 

“Oliver.” He softly calls. Oliver’s eyes snap to his although he doesn’t move from where he’s knelt down. 

“Rogers - do something!” Oliver begs his face tear stained. Bile rises in Steve’s throat when he steps from the trees to see Bucky and Elio. Bucky’s got Elio by the hair his favored knife at the teen’s throat. Bucky’s wearing his mask again. Elio’s eyes are swollen from his crying. 

Something snaps inside of him. 

“What the _fuck_?” The anger rushes through him. He clenches his fists. “This is too far, Buck! Let him go.” Steve growls. He is fucking furious. It’s one thing to keep these two until he and Bucky leave. A whole other thing to threaten them into compliance at knife point. 

Bucky raises his chin defiant the metal arm recalibrating as he pulls Elio closer. Steve is about to attack regardless when suddenly Bucky shoves Elio away. He yelps as he goes down hard on his hands and knees. Oliver is on him in an instant shielding him from Bucky (perhaps them both). Steve doesn’t pay attention as he sprints the few feet separating them. Bucky lets himself be tackled managing to come out on top the edges of the shield dig painfully into Steve’s shoulders and lower back. 

Steve drives his fist into Bucky’s stomach. A starburst of pain as he’s walloped across the jaw. He gets a hand in Bucky’s hair (never tied back) wrenching hard Bucky grunting behind the mask. Steve jabs his thumb into the soft underside of Bucky’s jaw as the knife drags hard down his left shoulder. A gasp at the hot piercing pain the blood welling up. 

“Stop!” 

Elio’s screaming trapped under Oliver who has forced him to the ground. “Stop! Stop! Don’t kill him!” Elio begs choked from panic. 

Steve doesn’t look over but focuses on Bucky. Elio’s screaming has undone him. The rage in those eyes break as Bucky shoves off of Steve. Slowly he reaches out for Bucky who stares at him upset. Steve finds the buckles on the back of the mask and clicks them open. 

“Buck. It’s time to leave.” Steve orders. He looks to Elio and Oliver crouched on the ground. “We’ll take you into town. We’re going to SHIELD and we can figure something out there.” 

Elio frowns as he wipes at his eyes. 

“SHIELD was proven to be HYDRA in disguise, Steve.” 

The shock makes Steve’s arms go weak. He drops the mask. 

“What?” 

Oliver nods. “Black Widow released the documents from SHIELD showing the takeover. It’s been infiltrated for decades. We saw the news before our backpacking trip.” 

“But Tony Stark is assembling the Avengers! He said there’s an open invitation for Captain America when he comes back.” Elio adds, as if that’s a saving grace for this new terrible information. 

It is that very night all four of them pile into the van with everything they own. Bucky refuses to leave without their camping supplies, the clothes they bought for him, or the the leftover food they still have. Steve admittedly wants to keep his clothes too. Elio and Oliver take fifteen minutes to silently gather all their various items from around the house. An hour passes as Bucky loads the van leaving just enough space for Elio and Oliver to squeeze in. 

For the first time since coming here Steve is the one to drive. It’s left unsaid that Elio and Oliver wouldn’t get in the van if Bucky is the one driving. 

Currently all three of them are sitting on the ground as Bucky ferries their supplies from the house to the van. Elio is leaning against Oliver tucked into his side both of them sitting on the ground, exhausted. Steve sits not far from them watching as Bucky organizes the van. Shame keeps Steve from looking over at them. It’s not until Bucky strolls back into the house does Elio speak up. 

“You never asked us how we showed up,” Elio calls out, causing Steve to look over and Oliver to frown hard at him. Now’s not the time to share life stories, but when was it ever before this? 

“I figured that wasn’t something important what with being captives. But how did you wander out to where we were? Buck picked this place because it’s in the middle of nowhere,” he says. May as well; there’s no rushing Buck with what he deems necessary to take. 

“We were hiking and camping. Oliver’s never been out this way and this is my first time in America,” Elio answers. Somehow this kid can still look at him without blame or anger. 

“Where do you call home?” Steve asks even as he knew Elio was foreign from the first. No point in making the kid feel more out of place. 

“Italy,” Elio answers. “Oliver’s seen my home and now I wanted to see his. We were on our way to California afterwards.” Steve gives a tiny smile. Soon enough this will all seem a surreal experience to them both. The smile drops from his mouth. But Oliver and Elio need to understand the seriousness of what they’ve unintentionally walked into. This isn’t a wild story to be told but a secret to be kept. 

“Elio, Oliver. You need to understand you can’t speak about this to _anyone_. What Bucky did back there? Evil people did that to him, HYDRA.” Both their faces are pale, eyes wide, and the levity Elio was trying for disappears. Steve doesn’t want to threaten them but even more he doesn’t want them to be tortured and killed by HYDRA or its shadow SHIELD. He knows exactly what they would do to get back their super soldier and wound Captain America in the same breath. 

“If they should find out you were with us, HYDRA wouldn’t be afraid to hurt you.” 

“Torture you and maybe kill you if you’re lucky,” Bucky’s voice adds from over Steve’s shoulder. He looks back to see Buck’s slotted a backpack between the driver and passenger seats. Bucky’s face is dispassionate despite his words. Steve’s stomach twists hearing that. Bucky’s not opened up much about what HYDRA did to him and he wishes it wasn’t now as a means to silence these two. But there’s never been many options in their lives for what they want. Especially not now. 

The four of them don’t speak until they’re all tucked into the car, Steve driving towards town to drop Elio and Oliver off. 

“I’m sorry, Elio. Oliver. I wish things hadn’t turned out this way.” He glances back at them in the rearview mirror. Oliver won’t look at him but Elio gives him a pained smile. He’s entirely too sweet by half in spite of what they’ve done. 

Four days later Steve and Bucky arrive on the lascivious front step of Tony Stark’s Avengers Tower to make a new life for themselves. (Elio and Oliver fade into normal existence all too happy to stay silent about their captivity when they learn drawing attention to the fact that they stayed with the Winter Soldier would bring down frightening organizations such as HYDRA on their heads). Steve feels only a little guilty for having to scare them so badly. 

It’s time for him and Bucky to have their lives back again. 

**Author's Note:**

> My amazing beta Tess is the one who got this whole fic cleaned up!  
> My author Cindy made the beautiful piece of artwork you see.


End file.
